


Bad Dreams

by MarieKavanagh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acromantulas, Arachnophobia, Gen, Marauders era, Nightmares, Pre-Hogwarts, Regulus Arcturus Black - Freeform, Regulus Black & Sirius Black - Freeform, Regulus Black - Freeform, Regulus Black Fest 2020, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, prompt, sirius black - Freeform, the black family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieKavanagh/pseuds/MarieKavanagh
Summary: Prompt: Little Regulus looking for comfort in his big brother after a nightmare.When a daring adventure to the hidden attic of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place goes badly wrong, seven-year-old Regulus Black suffers an awful nightmare. In the terror of the night, there is only one place where he can find the comfort he craves - his elder brother's room.
Relationships: Regulus Black & Sirius Black
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108
Collections: Regulus Black Fest 2020





	Bad Dreams

"Come _on_ , Reg, don't be so wet" nine-year-old Sirius Black urged his seven-year-old brother. "You'll like it, really!" 

  
Regulus Black had long since been used to his elder brother's pestering of him to follow his lead into the forbidden corners of the house on the assurance that "it would be fun". Unfortunately for the younger boy, refusing Sirius was a skill he had yet to perfect. 

  
"We can't go into the attic, Sirius" Regulus sighed, attempting to keep his attention focused on the page of the book he was reading , cross-legged on the rug by the fireplace in his bedroom- a children's encyclopedia of magical creatures. His eyes fixed firmly down at the moving image on the page of a hippogriff fluttering it's wings as it groomed itself. "We're not _allowed_ " 

  
Sirius furrowed his brow in frustration at his brother, his hands on his hips as he looked down at him.

  
"If everyone always followed the rules, no one would have any fun" he declared. 

  
Regulus's gaze jerked upwards at his brother questioningly for a moment.

He remained firmly unconvinced that rules existed as a way of stifling their attempts at fun, but alas, even at the tender age of seven, Regulus knew when to stifle remarks that Sirius wouldn't appreciate if he shared them. 

  
Sirius groaned in frustration and sunk to his knees in front of his brother, leaning in close to him. 

  
"Don't you trust me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

  
Regulus's grey eyes lifted to meet the matching gaze of his elder brother. 

  
He supposed he'd known from the moment Sirius had first barged into his bedroom excitedly that he wouldn't be able to deny his nagging for him to come up to the attic with him for long. 

  
Sirius was truly a hard person to deny. Particularly when he grinned such an excited, expectant grin.

  
"What even is it that's up there?" 

  
"I can't just tell you, that would take all the fun out of it. You'll have to wait and see" Sirius replied with a mischievous grin. 

  
Suddenly, he snatched Regulus's book from his hand and slammed it shut, setting it aside out of his reach.

Grabbing the sleeve of his brother's robes, Sirius tugged Regulus to his feet, either not noticing or not caring about how the younger boy's eyes stared back wistfully at his discarded book as he was led from the room. 

  
The two boys tiptoed along the hallway of the top floor of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the only sound echoing through the walls being that of the soft snoring of their governess, deep in the midst of her daily afternoon nap. Regulus held his breath as they crept past her bedroom. Thankfully their soft footsteps were practically silent, and in any case, she was a deep sleeper. 

  
Mildred Grimsby was a portly, middle-aged witch with a particular brand of sternness that left Sirius permanently irritated and Regulus permanently nervous. Despite her strictness, she was a clumsy, somewhat forgetful old thing that the boys had even once overheard their mother calling "Hardly the best witch for the job but until the right one can be found, she will have to do". 

  
The dwindling number of applicants for the post of governess within the Black family each time the same advertisement appeared in Witch Weekly spoke for themselves. Those with experience knew only too well what a job advertised for several times in a matter of months meant. 

  
_"Don't worry, Reg"_ Sirius had reassured his brother with a flash of his trademark cheeky grin a few short hours after she had arrived and both boys had agreed that she was not particularly likeable. _"She won't be here for long"_

  
As the two boys tiptoed past their governess's bedroom, Regulus felt a building sense of dread as to what punishment might face them if they were caught having left the top floor of the house which comprised as the narrow borders of their permitted roaming territory within the house. 

  
Sirius, having sensed his brother's unease, squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

  
At the dead end of the hallway, there was a tall, wall-length painting of a barren landscape, all brown fields, bare, spindly trees and a sky dappled with various shades of dusk purple over the painted hills on the horizon. Regulus had always thought this paining oddly beautiful in a grim sort of way. But the portrait had always been empty. Of little interest. Barely worth noticing. 

  
So why did Sirius bring him to stand in front of it so intently?

  
"Sirius, what-?"

  
"Shh!" 

  
Regulus quietened at his brother's command, still eyeing the painting curiously. 

  
"Hey! I know you're in there!" Sirius called out, his voice only just low enough not to be called a shout. "Come here!" 

  
Suddenly, the sound of slow footsteps came from within the painting, shoes crunching on the greyish-brown soil. 

  
A moment later, a witch appeared within the frame. She was a tall, waifish creature that reminded Regulus of a scarecrow, if scarecrows wore ragged robes and patched, pointed hats. The old tired-looking old witch leaned heavily on the pitchfork she carried as she peered suspiciously out from inside the portrait. 

  
_"Slí isteach"_ said Sirius, firmly. 

  
Regulus cocked his head up at his brother in confusion at the foreign tongue his brother spoke, but scarcely had a moment to ask what his words meant before the portrait witch silently nudged at the frame of the painting with her pitchfork and the entire, golden frame swung outwards like a door, revealing a dark alcove containing a winding, wooden staircase. 

  
Regulus's jaw dropped open in surprise. 

  
"How did you know that was there?!" the younger boy asked in a shocked whisper, painful aware that what they had discovered must certainly not be something they should not have, or else surely they would have been told about it before now.

  
"I caught Kreacher going through here a week or so ago" said Sirius as he pulled his little brother after him as he began to climb the staircase. "Heard him having an argument with her one night and had a peep out to investigate. She wouldn't let him up there. The old bat can be a bit moody, sometimes"

  
"How many times have you been up here?" Regulus asked, his brow furrowed suspiciously. 

  
Sirius shrugged with a smirk. 

  
"A few times" he said. "But wait til you see what's up here, Reg!" 

  
At last, the two boys reached the top of the staircase and entered the hidden attic room of Grimmauld Place. 

  
The room was dark and smelled damp and musky. Layers of dust covered the various surfaces and large, cloaked items stood around the room. 

  
"It's just storage" said Regulus, feeling decidedly unimpressed with the grand reveal after Sirius's big build-up. He peered inside a large, ornate display cabinet to the side of him. The glass windows were so dusty he could scarcely see the ornaments shelved within them. 

  
"But look at it all, Reg!" Sirius exclaimed, waving his arms about. "There's so much brilliant stuff up here..." 

  
By way of demonstration, Sirius darted across the room to an ornate wooden chest of drawers and pulled open the top one with a loud creak. He yanked out a set of robes, a large cloud of dust billowing around him. 

  
Sirius tugged the robes over his own, the large volume of deep, olive green fabric practically drowning him. 

  
"How old do you reckon these are?" he asked, grinning as he twirled in a circle, the robes shooting off yet more dust around him. "Hideous, aren't they?"

  
Regulus had to admit, the olive-green robes certainly were ugly. But Sirius wasn't finished. He must have been up here enough times before now to know where his favourite items were, since he dashed as fast as the robes weighing him down would allow, over to an uncovered wardrobe and pulled out a large, moth-eaten witch's hat. The point had begun to droop with age, and the several brightly coloured feathers stuck decoratively on one side had dulled in colour to a hideous shade of brown.

  
"I reckon this must have been one of Aunt Cassiopeia's" said Sirius, striking a proud pose that Regulus couldn't help but giggle at. 

  
The unfortunate truth was that it was only too easy to imagine their old aunt dressed in such a vulgar specimen of a hat.

  
At seeing his little brother's grin, Sirius shed himself of the robes and hat, discarding them on the wooden floor, and darted across the room to a large chest which he threw open and beckoned his brother over to come and see. 

  
Regulus peered into the chest and gasp in surprise at what he saw. 

  
The chest was filled, almost to the brim, with gold galleons which seemed to practically glow in the dim light of the attic. 

  
"Why is there so much _money_ up here?" Regulus asked in awe. 

  
"It's not _real_ money, silly" said Sirius, attempting to appear unimpressed, although his eyes widened in awe at the gleaming coins just as much as his brother's. "It's leprechaun gold. Fake money, basically" 

  
"But... what for?" Regulus reached out to touch the coins, but found that an invisible barrier repelled him, shielding the contents of the chest. 

  
Sirius shrugged. 

  
"Dunno" he replied. "But leprechaun gold is supposed to disappear after a while. I think the spell is some way of stopping it from disappearing?"

  
Soon tiring of the chest full of treasure that they couldn't touch, the two boys' attention diverted to the other curious objects of the room. 

  
Sirius excitedly showed of the various items he had discovered on previous visits; the grandfather clock that shot bolts out at anyone who stood in front of it for two long, the curious music box that neither of them could listen to without yawning sleepily, the hideous stuffed wampus that had been misshapen into a warped crouching position, it's jaws snarling crookedly.

  
Regulus had to admit, this forbidden wonderland of the family's collection of curiosities was certainly rather enjoyable. Perhaps Sirius was right, this was fun. 

  
Until suddenly, a large item in the far corner of the attic began to rumble, shaking itself from side to side, as though an angry creature within were desperately trying to break free from its prison. The shaking shook it's enormous, dust-covered drape floating to the floor, exposing the item hidden underneath. 

  
It was a large, black walnut wardrobe. Intricately-carved with large, brass handles. It was a rather ugly piece, no doubt this was the reason why it was hidden up in the attic in the first place.

  
"What's that?" Regulus asked, flinching with fear at the ominous rumbling of the wardrobe. 

  
"Dunno" said Sirius, tilting his head to one side in puppy-like curiosity. "I wonder what's in it... Go and find out, Reg" 

  
Regulus's head snapped round to look alarmingly at Sirius. 

  
"No,we shouldn't. It might be dangerous" he said, nibbling the inside of his lip nervously. 

  
"Go on, Reg!" Sirius urged, letting out an impatient sigh. "Just- be a little bit brave for once, will you?"

  
Sirius's irritation with him ate away at Regulus. He hated knowing that his brother was displeased with him. 

  
Maybe Sirius was right. He needed to stop being so cowardly. 

  
"Alright..." Regulus murmured, taking a tentative step towards the rattling wardrobe. 

  
The excited grin that Sirius flashed him gave the younger boy the courage he needed to step forward and approach the wardrobe. 

  
The wardrobe shook itself from side to side again, as though in warning to the approaching boy. Whatever was inside the wardrobe didn't sound friendly. But Sirius had proven him wrong up until now.

Regulus had been only delighted with the contents of the room so far.

  
And his brother wouldn't truly let him find something dangerous, right? 

  
He crept forward and slowly pulled the creaking wooden door of the wardrobe ajar. 

  
He scarcely had a moment to peak inside before he was flung backwards by a sudden force with a yelp. 

  
To Regulus's horror, the attic filled with the sound of a distinct scuttling noise - the noise of many legs. Eight, to be precise. 

  
Out of the wardrobe crawled an enormous acromantula, it's legs scuttling on the wooden floor, its eight eyes shining, its pincers clicking excitedly at the terrified boy before it.

  
Regulus screamed. An almighty scream of pure terror, all attempt at not making enough noise to give away their presence gone. He turned and fled the room, unable to hear what Sirius was calling after him as he ran for the staircase. 

  
In his haste, he tripped on the pile of olive-green robes discarded on the floor and felt his knee scrape on the a sharp piece of floorboard. But he was in full-blown panic mode and scrambled to his feet and bolted for the staircase, too caught-up in his fear to think about the pain in his cut knee. 

  
Regulus flew down the stairs, panting heavily. In his haste, he tripped on the narrow, winding staircase and found himself tumbling down, painfully. In his panic, before he could plummet from the last five steps up to the floor below, he found his juvenile magic kicking in. He floated softly to land on the floor of the alcove below, his body shaking with fright. 

  
He raised a trembling arm and pushed the portrait door open to flood the dark alcove with light. The sight that greeted him were the perfectly-polished sensible shoes of his governess. 

  
"Regulus Black!" came the shrill voice of Mildred Grimsby, sending fresh shivers down Regulus's spine as he hurried to sit himself up in spite of the throbbing bruises from his fall. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"

  
"I- I was- We were-" Regulus struggled to piece together his words, still reeling from the shock of the acromantula. 

  
"And where is your brother?" the middle-aged witch demanded, craning her neck up the staircase. 

  
The sound of sudden, darting footsteps followed. Sirius must have been peering down to survey the situation before darting back to the safety of darkness at the realisation the old governess was onto him.

  
"Sirius Black!" Mildred shrieked. "I know you are up there! Come down here at _once_!" 

  
Sirius reluctantly reappeared from the attic, stomping each step of the way, fists clenches defiantly, ready for a fight. 

  
Regulus, meanwhile, was tugged to his feet by the arm and given a good looking over by their governess. 

  
"Please, don't be angry with us!" Regulus pleaded frantically as the witch prodded at his arms in search of further injury. "I'm sorry we went up there, really, but you need to tell Papa qucik! There's an acromantula up there, a real one!"

  
"Really, Regulus, I would expect fanciful tales of your brother but not from you" tutted Mildred as she brushed down the boy's robes, grimacing at the dust that fell away from the expensive fabric. "An acromantula, indeed!" 

  
"Really! Honest, there is!" 

  
"Pipe down, Reg, it's not a real one" 

  
Sirius stood beside his brother, hands in his pockets sulkily at having his new secret play area found out. 

  
"It was only a boggart. I tried to _tell_ you but you ran off too quick. Scaredy-cat"

  
There was a distinct element of irritation in the elder brother's voice that struck the younger hard in the gut.

He felt shame brewing inside him, overtaking the fear that was at last dying down at the news that the huge spider in the attic was not real. 

  
Several weeks ago, when the boys' tutor had first brought them their children's encyclopedia of magical creatures, Regulus had quickly discovered that the acromantula was a creature that invoked a deep and unexplained terror within him. He had flung the book off of his lap with a frightened yelp the first time he had turned the page to be confronted with a large illustration of the enormous arachnid, it's eight, long, hairy legs waving in the air, it's pincers twitching excitedly at the thought of fresh meat... 

  
He hated it, deeply. And yet he couldn't quite explain why a mere picture of a creature that he would never meet (for they lived in far off Borneo and were forbidden to be traded in Britain) invoked such fear within him. Perhaps it was the unnatural number of legs, he wondered. Or the eyes. The eight black, gleaming eyes... 

  
Sirius had offered to tear the page out of the book completely, but somehow Regulus couldn't bring himself to consent to the defacing of a book. It didn't seem right, not to mention the trouble they might get into if their tutor discovered it. But, nevertheless, he was always careful to skip the acromantula page when reading the book, carefully memorising the page number and the creatures detailed before and after it. 

  
And, as Regulus had read in that very same book, boggarts assumed the shape of the worst fear of the person before them. And so, his worst nightmare had been realised. A real-life acromantula had appeared before him. 

  
Regulus wished he had listened to his conscience instead of allowed himself to be swayed by his elder brother, again. 

  
"This is of your doing I suppose, Sirius?" the governess asked, hands on her hips, peering down at the boy sternly. 

  
Sirius shrugged silently, his eyes glaring off to the side. 

  
"Of course" the witch said with an exasperated sigh, her hands on her hips as she shook her head down at her troublesome young charge. "What on _earth_ possessed you? You know full well you are not to leave the rooms of the nursery without permission!" 

  
"Well it was boring in there" Sirius shot back defensively, scowling stubbornly. "And it's not my fault Regulus got hurt. He was the one scared by a silly old boggart" 

  
Regulus felt his cheeks flush with shame. His eyes began to sting and he could feel tears beginning to well up. His brother's disappointment throbbed nearly as sorely as the cut on his knee. 

  
The boys' governess shook her head, teeth gritted in frustration.

  
"You would try the patience of a saint, Sirius Black" she said, grabbing hold of the boy with her free arm. Sirius attempted to tug his arm free from her grip but she shook him back threateningly. 

  
"Kreacher!" she called, her voice taking on the somewhat plummy tone that it always did when she raised it and that Sirius liked to imitate to make Regulus laugh.

  
But Sirius didn't seem in much of a mood for making his brother laugh right now. 

  
With a familiar CRACK, Kreacher appeared. 

  
"What?" he asked , gruffly.

  
Such lack of respect would surely earn him a good whipping if said in front of either the master or mistress of the house, but it was only under Walburga's orders that the house elf obeyed Mildred Grimsby's calls at all. 

  
In his humble opinion, no halfblood was deemed worthy to traipse up and down the halls of the house he tended so faithfully, regardless of their position within it. 

  
"Take Master Regulus back to the nursery and see to his injuries, please" said Mildred, steering Regulus over to the house elf. 

  
Kreacher's bat-like ears perked up at the suggestion that Regulus was hurt, his eyes widening. The elf had always been fond of Regulus - the sweet, obedient younger child who was sympathetic of him, the opposite of the surly, disobedient elder boy who liked to make jokes about his shrivelled skin and imitate his crooked walk. 

  
"Master Regulus is hurt?" asked Kreacher, his eyes looking him up and down. 

  
"Just a cut knee" said Regulus, forcing himself to sound more okay than he did. But the elf's eyes remained fixed on him, anxiously scanning him for harm. 

  
"Off you go, now" said the governess, a tad more gently to Regulus before returning her attention to Sirius, sternness returning to her voice in full force. "And as for you, Sirius, I think we'd best go and explain the afternoon's events to your mother. I'm sure she will be anxious to hear them"

  
Regulus's eyes widened with fear. There would surely be significant punishment for this grievous trespass. Mama could be rather scary when she was cross. 

  
But if Sirius was afraid of the impending wrath of their mother, he did not show it. He continued to scowl defiantly and tug against their governess's grip on his arm as he was hauled off down the hallway. 

  
He didn't so much as look back at Regulus before he was dragged down the staircase. 

  
If he had, he would have seen the first of the tears that Regulus had tried so hard to hold back begin to slide down his cheek with a sniff. 

  
"Not to worry, Master Regulus" said Kreacher, gently. "Kreacher will mend it" 

  
With another miserable sniff, Regulus followed the house elf back in the direction of his bedroom. 

  
***

  
Regulus didn't see Sirius for the rest of the day. 

  
As expected, Sirius was sent straight to his room, deprived of all toys and books and with the promise of no supper.

  
With his cut knee and bruises healed as good as new by Kreacher, Regulus was left alone in his room. He was free to play as he liked, but somehow he just couldn't find the willpower to play any of the usual games that he might have done. Nothing was as much fun without Sirius. 

  
He halfheartedly picked up the encyclopedia of magical creatures he had been reading before Sirius had dragged him off on their great adventure, still laying discarded from where his elder brother had snatched it from him and tossed it aside, but he found he just didn't want to read anymore. 

  
After a miserable, lonely supper, Regulus was sent to bed at his normal time. As it always was during times when Sirius was kept away from him due to a punishment, the process of preparing for bed was painfully quiet without the elder boy's constant complaining about why he had to go to bed at the same time as his little brother. Regulus often found himself a tad irritated by Sirius's regular carrying-on, but when Sirius wasn't there, he couldn't help but miss the noise. 

  
Perhaps things might have been different if Sirius had been there to cheer his little brother up that evening. Perhaps that would have set Regulus's anxious mind at ease before he was left alone in the dark in his bedroom for the night. 

  
But he wasn't. 

  
As Regulus lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim him, he couldn't stop the image of the acromantula boggart's eight gleaming, black eyes staring at him creeping back into his mind's eye, the sound of the scuttling legs still crawling through his eardrums... 

  
He clutched at the bed covers, taking deep breaths as he chanted to himself "It's not real... It's not real... It's not real..." until fatigue finally dragged him down into the world of sleep. 

  
_The acromantula was back. It was coming straight for him, scuttling across the room, it's long, hairy legs carrying tapping across the floorboards, it's pincers clicking excitedly as it approached him. Why couldn't he move? Why wasn't he running? The great beast was almost upon him... It's fangs were poised, ready to bite-_

  
Regulus sat bolt upright in bed with a yelp, panting. His pyjama shirt clung to his sweat-soaked torso, his skin goose-bumped and trembling with fright. Images of scuttling legs and clicking pincers flashed through his sleep-hazed mind and he was suddenly all too aware of his bare feet at the end of the bed. As images of spider legs clambering over him filled his head, Regulus quickly pulled his knees up to his chest, willing himself to curl up into a tight little ball, safe against creepy-crawly invaders. 

  
Directly opposite him, his wardrobe loomed large and foreboding in the darkness. Perhaps it was the flicker of the moonlight from behind the clouds, but Regulus was sure the wardrobe moved. Had it just shaken? It must have. There was a boggart in his wardrobe! Any moment now, the creature from his nightmares would burst out, ready to attack. 

  
Panting with fear, Regulus furiously wiped away the tears in his eyes and bolted. 

  
Driven purely by instinct, he threw himself out of bed and sprinted across the room, past the dreaded, boggart-infested wardrobe, towards his bedroom door, not even stopping to take the practical step of donning his dressing gown and slippers. 

  
Throwing aside all worry of the perils of being caught out of bed in the middle of the night, he tore across the landing and hurled himself through Sirius's bedroom door, pausing only for one agonisingly-slow moment to close it quietly before tearing across the room and diving straight into his brother's bed. 

  
As Regulus burrowed into the safety of the bedclothes, he heard Sirius, who was curled up on one side, give a sleepy moan in protest as his little brother pressed himself as close to him as he could. 

  
"Sirius?" Regulus whispered anxiously, giving the elder boy a slight shake. 

  
Sirius moaned again in protest at being woken. He was never an easy riser. But Regulus would not be deterred. 

  
"Sirius, please, wake up!" the younger boy begged in a hushed voice. 

  
"S'wrong?" Sirius eventually mumbled, sleepily, craning his neck round to look at Regulus. 

  
"There's a boggart in my wardrobe! It's the acromantula, it's come back to get me!" 

  
Sirius rolled over to face his brother, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes. 

  
"What? That's rubbish"

  
"It's not rubbish!" Regulus's fear-filled whisper practically whimpered. "It's true, honest!" 

  
"There isn't a boggart in your wardrobe, Reg" Sirius replied, gently, his voice carrying only a mild hint of irritation at being awoken to a false alarm. 

  
The elder brother hauled himself up to lean against the pillows and wrapped an arm around his trembling younger brother's shoulders, pulling him close.

  
Regulus gratefully leaned into the embrace, Sirius's calm words soothing his panicked mind. 

  
"There can't be a boggart in your wardrobe, Reg" said Sirius. "Papa wouldn't let there be one in there. I don't even know how the one in the attic got away with it. Even that one's probably gone by now"

  
His brother spoke sense. Sirius's words calmed Regulus, who, now able to think logically, indeed did have trouble imagining their father allowing a boggart to remain undetected within the house for long. The one lurking in the attic was surely gone by now, and the idea of there being one in his wardrobe did sound rather silly now he was thinking more sensibly. 

  
But the image of the acromantula was still seared into his mind's eye so sharply that thinking about it for a moment too long sent shivers through him. 

  
"I dreamed about it..." Regulus muttered, staring down at his lap as he leaned against his brother. 

  
"About the boggart?" Sirius asked, turning to look down at the younger boy. 

  
Regulus nodded. 

  
"About the- the acrom- that _thing_ " 

  
Even the feeling of the word on his tongue was too vivid for him to bear. 

  
Suddenly, he felt Sirius seem to slump a little beside him. 

  
"I'm sorry, Reg" Sirius said, his voice low and sincere. "I shouldn't have taken you up there"

  
Regulus was taken aback. Sirius was not one who could be easily persuaded to apologise. He had spent many a day confined to his room, bade to remain there alone until ready to apologise. And even then, the uttered apology was likely to be sulky and reluctant. 

  
But there was genuine meaning in his apology to his brother. And Regulus knew very well what a rare occasion this was. 

  
"It's okay. You were right" said Regulus, resting his head on Sirius's shoulder sleepily. "I shouldn't have been such a scaredy-cat" 

  
Sirius chuckled. 

  
"I guess it was mean of me to call you that" he admitted. "I'd have been rather spooked if it had been me it had jumped out at" 

  
"No you wouldn't!" Regulus lifted his head and looked up at his brother. "You're not scared of anything. Not even Mama when she's cross. You'd tell it to _bog off_ " 

  
The younger boy couldn't help but giggle at his own use of the phrase which bordered as close to rude as he could summon. 

  
Sirius smiled and let out a snort of laughter. 

  
"You really think I could take on a boggart?" he asked, grinning at Regulus.

  
"Yes" said Regulus, truthfully. "You're the brave one"

  
He spoke admiringly, and more than a little wistfully. 

  
Sirius shrugged, a courtesy hint of modesty, but he couldn't keep the slight smirk from his face. 

  
"Guess I am" he said. 

  
He tightened his grip around his younger brother's shoulders. Regulus smiled and melted into Sirius's protective embrace. 

  
"Guess you'd better sleep here then" he said. "In case Papa didn't get rid of that boggart after all and it sneaks downstairs looking for a new wardrobe"

  
Regulus's smile faded a little. 

  
"Only joking" Sirius said quickly, settling himself down against the pillows again. He tugged Regulus down to lay next to him and covered them both, their warmth shielding the two brothers from any potential outside threat. 

  
"It was only a bad dream, Reg" Sirius assured his brother. "It's just thoughts in your head. And once you know they're not real, and you're not scared anymore, the bad dreams will go away"

  
Regulus nodded silently, unconvinced.

  
Sirius seemed to sense his brother's continued unease. 

  
Of course he did. Sirius always knew what he was thinking. 

  
The older boy reached out to clasp his brother's hand under the covers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  
"No stupid monster is going to get near you again" said Sirius with a sleepy yawn. "It'll have to get through me first" 

  
With his brother's words soothing his troubled mind like a balm, Regulus drifted back to sleep, still gripping Sirius's hand, safe in the knowledge that his bad dreams were just that. Bad dreams. 

**Author's Note:**

> Descriptions of Regulus's arachnophobia may or may not be based heavily on my own experiences lol enjoy the fruits of my terror.


End file.
